


His Wealth

by writingdetritus



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, family ties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingdetritus/pseuds/writingdetritus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin reflects on his nephews Kíli and Fíli.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Wealth

**Author's Note:**

> It's kind of fluffy, but... I made my self sad while writing it because, well. Yeah.

_The woods shall wave on mountains_

_And grass beneath the sun;_

_His wealth shall flow in fountains_

_And the rivers golden run._

_~J. R. R. Tolkien (‘The Hobbit’)_

            They were freer than the birds in the sky, the rabbits in their burrows, and much freer than any dwarf he had ever seen.

            Thorin watched Fíli and Kíli from the back door of his forge in the Blue Mountains. The forge was small, hot and covered in black soot, but it was his home for the time being. The front opened to the streets, while the back was towards the grassy hillsides of the mountains. They kept the doors open generally just to let in the small amount of fresh air into the two room store.

            Fíli had been working in the forge for more than five years, while Kíli had managed to avoid the manual labor for much longer, and this was his first real year working. Before this work, he was out in the forests on the mountain sides, bow in hand and quiver on back. But when Thorin (and his mother, who seemed to think he needed a traditional dwarven background in smithing) had asked Kíli to work for him, Kíli had taken it as insult at first; he wasn’t one to work indoors, but with the urging of his brother, he had finally agreed.

            The brothers could never be separated for long. When described they sounded joined to the hip. When they were much younger, Dís had decided to spoil them and did not bestow responsibilities on them until they simply became too rowdy to handle. During the years that Fíli had worked without his brother, Kíli would show up in the late afternoon, his game over his shoulder and a grin across his face. He would sit on the counter, bow sitting by his side, and pluck whatever he had shot for the day, chattering away with his brother. Thorin let him; he could not deny their time together.

            When Kíli had begun to work, Thorin couldn’t deny him his free spirit either. After lunch every day, the brothers would disappear out the back, either tumbling and wrestling with each other, or bounding back into the woods, or sometimes just lying in the sunlight, letting it warm their dirty faces.

            Today, Kíli and Fíli had decided to take lunch outside. They had invited their uncle, but he declined. Let them have their time together.

            Thorin wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing the soot across it in a dark streak. Kíli tossed a piece of bread to his brother, smiling. Thorin couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he didn’t need to.

            Fíli ripped the bread in half, throwing back a piece to his brother, and then shaking his golden locks in the sunlight, smiling down into his still young beard. Thorin knew he would never have children; it wasn’t his right too at this point in time of his life. His goals were to create a home for the sons and daughters of his people lost across Middle Earth.

            Dís would disagree with him that Fíli and Kíli needed a home created – because they already had one with her and their uncle. Thorin had to admit he had never heard the boys complain about it, but he felt guilty. They had no true place to belong, no home to return to after battle, no brethren surrounding them.

            Kíli jumped up and pushed his brother with his heavy boot, knocking Fíli over. They were laughing. Thorin sighed and retired back inside the forge.

            His plan was set, and no manner of words from his sister would change his mind. She had been so young when Smaug attacked that he liked to believe she simply didn’t remember it and that was why she wasn’t all too keen in returning. Although he knew the truth. She had simply been able to adjust more easily than any of her kin: her home was with her children.

            Thorin beat his hammer on a glowing piece of metal, sparks flying around him. Unlike Fíli and Kíli he was not of the air and trees. He was of the mountains, deep, dark and mysterious. Their heavy roots reaching down into the ground, their spires high but sharp. He didn’t always understand his nephews love for their freedom, but he would let them have it always, because he could never deny them anything.

            His family had always loved the sight and feel of gold, the glittering of gems. The Durins Folk had grown up surrounded with it, rivers of gold in the cold stones of Erebor, fields of rubies, saphires and diamonds. But Fíli and Kíli had never known any of that. They were different in their wants from other Dwarves. All they needed was each other really, and Thorin tried to learn from their lessons. But he was not of their kin in the sense of the freedom of the forests and skies, so he always returned to the thought of treasures, especially the ones taken from him and his people by the wyrm.

            If they asked, he wouldn’t deny them in following him to the Lonely Mountain; he would never deny their choices, because he never denied them anything and he never would. If they asked to die for him, he would let them but only if he died beside them.

            The sword beneath his hammer began to take shape and he paused, breathing heavily. He looked back out into the summer kissed fields to see Fíli chasing his brother down and tackling him, before they rolled in the grass, laughing into each other’s hair. He had always placed so much into the golden riches of old, but now he knew that they were his treasures, and he was theirs.


End file.
